


Treaty

by harlequin (julie)



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Cracky Premise, Dubious Consent, Multi, Self-Harm, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-22
Updated: 2010-10-22
Packaged: 2017-11-06 16:30:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/420954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julie/pseuds/harlequin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After negotiating a treaty with Uther, Cenred gets to bed Arthur for a night. He suggests Merlin stay, in case Arthur has need of him. Which of course he does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Treaty

**Author's Note:**

> **Notes:** Set soon after _The Changeling_ , though I don't really intend this to be canonical!
> 
> **Warnings:** A cracky premise. Dubious consent. A threesome. A drugged Arthur, an enema, and a medieval cock ring. A measure of self–harm from Cenred.

♦

Uther was so furious over Arthur refusing to marry Elena that he threw in Arthur’s virginity as a fillip when next discussing terms with Cenred. Never had treaty negotiations been concluded so swiftly.

♦

On the relevant evening, Gaius gave Merlin two vials, a tube with a bulb attached, and a list of instructions – ‘To prepare the prince’ – and then scarpered before Merlin could ask him to explain. _Coward_ , thought Merlin, without much heat.

Merlin started reading, perplexed. And then he blushed. But he didn’t really mind for his own sake, only for Arthur’s.

Arthur didn’t mind very much either, once the first vial had been administered. The prince drank down the potion, and almost immediately started feeling rather mellow. ‘Oh well,’ he concluded. ‘I’m sure this won’t be so bad.’

‘You’re all mad,’ said Merlin. ‘I think I should rescue you. Uther really has no right –’

Arthur got huffy, in a mellow kind of way. ‘I am not some helpless damsel in distress, you know, Merlin.’

‘Of course not, sire. But I could sneak you down to the stables, and we could –’

‘Not necessary. Really. It’s only for one night, after all. Not like a marriage.’

‘And Gwen…?’

Arthur glanced at him, and looked away. ‘Well. If Gwen ever _does_ get what she wishes for… which is highly unlikely… she’ll be getting damaged goods. But I suspect she figured that out a long time ago.’

‘Oh, _Arthur_ …’ Merlin wondered if the pain that cracked through his chest was a breaking heart.

‘Weren’t you pouring me a bath?’ Arthur asked with a very mild kind of impatience.

‘Yes, sire.’ Merlin put his head down and got on with it. He washed Arthur’s hair, and carefully soaped every single inch of Arthur’s skin. Then he frowned over the next part of the instructions though every letter of them was already etched in his brain. He picked up the tube. ‘Arthur. I need you to kneel up.’

Arthur cast him a mellow querying glance.

‘I have to… clean you. On the inside as well.’

A moment passed. And then Arthur abruptly turned his face away. He got up to his knees in the bath quickly enough, though. His rear was still under the water, but Merlin didn’t have the heart to make him move again. Instead he felt his way to the right place with gentle fingers; filled the bulb with warm water, and carefully pushed the tube inside the man. After an initial resistance, Arthur seemed to make himself relax enough to accept it. Merlin squeezed to squirt the water within. ‘Is that… all right?’ he murmured.

‘Well. It’s not _pleasant_.’

‘Arthur –’

‘It’s fine. Do what you have to do.’

And a few moments later when Merlin helped Arthur climb out of the tub, he seemed to have returned to his mellow mood. The prince stood there sturdily, his face averted, while Merlin towelled him down with a strange sense of respect. Then Merlin took the second vial, and poured oil fragrant with rosemary into his hand, and began applying that. To every inch. Of Arthur’s skin. Even his genitals. It was in the instructions. Arthur’s cock was hanging a little heavier than usual. Merlin cupped it in both hands to gently coat it, rolled the man’s balls in his palms. And then… then of course… his last task was to prepare Arthur inside as well. ‘Arthur?’ he whispered, his fingertips hesitating over the tight little circle of flesh.

‘Just do it,’ Arthur advised – and then he gasped as Merlin’s finger slid in, first one and then another as well, and Merlin twisted them around in an effort to quickly apply the oil, his other hand steadying himself steadying Arthur by grasping Arthur’s hip – and he pushed in further, wanting only to be thorough, turned his fingers around within that smooth wall, feeling his way – and Arthur gasped again, then cried out – Arthur tightened around him, and the man’s hips jerked –

And when Merlin dared to look, he found Arthur staring down at a splattering of seed on the floor, one last drop beading on the tip of his cock.

‘Oh,’ said Merlin. ‘I don’t think I was meant to do that.’

‘Idiot.’ Arthur’s voice was husky, and too mellow to really reprove him.

‘D’you think I should –’ He let his fingers ease out just a little from where they’d been buried knuckle–deep.

‘Yes,’ said Arthur.

‘Yes,’ came another voice, a darker male voice. ‘Though I appreciate all the work you’ve put in.’

Arthur simply stood there unmoving, his head still bent, though Merlin looked over to see Cenred standing just inside the closed door. He had no idea how long they’d had a witness, but Merlin didn’t hurry now. He carefully withdrew his fingers, and applied a little more oil to Arthur’s hole, then stood. ‘Is there anything else, sire?’

‘No,’ said Arthur, still not moving.

‘Yes,’ said Cenred. ‘That table,’ as he indicated the narrow one that bore the old Roman and Saxon masks: ‘put it against the wall under that mirror there.’

Merlin went to do so, shifting the gear onto the floor, and carrying the table over, centring it more or less under the mirror.

‘And a candle,’ Cenred continued.

Merlin fetched a candlestick from the table, lit the candle at one of the candelabra, and then placed it on the table by the mirror.

‘Good.’ Cenred walked over to Arthur, and placed a proprietary hand in the small of his back. ‘Come, my prince.’

Arthur took a step, slowly but obediently, and Merlin turned away, headed quietly for the door.

‘You can stay,’ Cenred advised. ‘Your master may have need of you.’

‘Arthur?’ He wondered if Arthur wouldn’t rather be alone for this, and not risk the humiliation of a witness. But the prince simply nodded once, and Merlin instead went to stand in the shadows on the far side of the fireplace.

Soon Arthur was standing before the mirror, fists firmly gripping the table edge, while Cenred plunged up into him from behind, his black leather and long black hair dark against Arthur’s pale gold nudity. Arthur’s head still hung low, though his shoulders were now strong his arms were braced his whole body was tensed to stand firm against Cenred’s thrusts.

Cenred had bound a strip of leather around the base of his cock, saying this would make him last all night, and indeed he was pounding away tirelessly for no result other than the continuing pleasure – Merlin swallowed, thinking of it – oh the pleasure of having this man. Of watching himself have this man. Of watching Arthur flushed and vulnerable in the mirror, while Arthur’s shoulders before him were wide and undaunted. Merlin would want it to last forever, too. After a while, Cenred slowed, and one of his black gloved hands pushed up to cup Arthur’s chin, to lift Arthur’s head, golden hair falling back as his face was fully revealed, candlelit and reflected in the mirror. ‘You are so very beautiful, my prince. You shouldn’t hide.’

Arthur’s gaze met Merlin’s through the mirror, perhaps merely because he didn’t want to see himself – and his eyes were… not dull and not even indifferent, but unengaged. Even while his body was tensed and his cock was engorged, his eyes revealed his lack of real involvement.

‘You, there,’ said Cenred. ‘What’s your name?’

‘Merlin.’

‘Merlin, come here. It is as I foretold: your prince has need of you.’

Arthur roused himself enough to cast a searching glance over Merlin, but no doubt Merlin’s own eagerness was evident, for Arthur didn’t question him or protest.

Moments later, Merlin was crouched on the floor with Arthur’s cock in his mouth, sucking enthusiastically as if he couldn’t imagine anything better – and in those moments he truly couldn’t – his hands spread and running up the front of each strong thigh until he reached the top and his thumbs pressed up against Arthur’s balls – and Arthur groaned gut–deep, Merlin could almost feel it vibrate through him, and then Arthur’s hips jerked again and he was coming, he was coming, pouring his seed down Merlin’s throat, another long groan, and –

And Cenred cried out in strangled shocked urgency, he was fumbling at himself – Merlin saw the leather strip drop to the floor, and then he was pushing hard up into Arthur, crying out again – and for a moment Merlin was crushed painfully against the table edge, but then despite Cenred’s force Arthur pushed himself back, holding himself firmly in place again with one arm, while the other hand came round to cradle Merlin’s head. And at last they were done.

‘Clean him,’ Cenred demanded once he had voice again.

Merlin let Arthur’s spent cock slip out of his mouth, and he swallowed one last time, and he may have pressed a dry whisper of a kiss to Arthur’s thigh, nudging his nose into where his thigh curved in past his balls. Then Merlin wet a cloth and carefully did as Cenred wished, dabbing at the tender flesh to clean away a king’s seed. He applied a little more oil, though Arthur’s involuntary shiver seemed to indicate that it stung.

Cenred added, ‘Now lay your master down in the bed.’

Merlin led an unnaturally quiet Arthur over to the bed, helped him climb in and slip in under the covers.

‘You get in, too. Hold him.’

He’d never received more welcome orders, though Merlin was torn between laughing at Cenred delegating all the care and tenderness in these acts to another, and wondering if Arthur would ever forgive Merlin for seeing him so reduced once all this was past and the mellowness fled. Merlin quickly stripped off his clothes, and without even trying to hide the fact that his own cock was strainingly hungry, he got into the bed beside Arthur and obligingly took the man into his arms. Arthur let him, even resettled himself a little more snugly into his embrace.

Cenred stood by the fireplace for a while, apparently contemplating the flames. He was still fully dressed, and now he’d tucked himself away there was nothing to betray what he’d been doing only moments before. After a while, he asked, ‘Did your father tell you, my prince… what I conceded in return for this night?’ He added, thoughtfully, ‘I trust you were flattered.’

Neither of them replied.

‘Next time… This time I will last. You will not rob me of my due.’

‘It was hardly Arthur’s fault –’ Merlin began hotly.

‘Merlin,’ Arthur murmured a quiet admonition.

Perhaps Cenred intended it as punishment, but he knelt on the bed and ordered Merlin to stroke him until he was fully hard again. Arthur batted away Merlin’s hand and performed the task himself. But when it came to binding the leather around Cenred’s cock, Cenred insisted that it be Merlin who did the deed. And then moments later Arthur was on all fours straddling Merlin’s recumbent body, and Cenred was pushing hard into him from behind, and Merlin lay there gazing up at Arthur’s flushed face, running soothing hands down his back and biting his lip to keep himself from murmuring reassuring nonsense.

And Cenred did last this time, until eventually Arthur’s arms gave out, and he collapsed face–first against Merlin with an angry little cry directed inwards as if furious at himself.

‘Let him be,’ Merlin cried to Cenred, wrapping his arms around Arthur’s shoulders, and stroking his hair. ‘You’ve had your fun.’

‘Oh the fun has hardly even begun.’

Perhaps it was intended as punishment, but now Cenred lay back on the bed, and forced Arthur to ride him – though surely Cenred could see the quickly suppressed wince as Arthur lowered himself down onto that bruised–looking cock. Merlin settled himself behind Arthur without waiting for permission, straddling Cenred’s thighs, and he supported the prince as Arthur tentatively found a rhythm he could maintain.

‘Merlin. Use your hands,’ Cenred ordered after a while. ‘Make him come again.’

Arthur voiced a broken little protest as if fearing that pleasure was beyond him by now. But a moment later he turned his head just slightly back towards Merlin as if waiting for Merlin to respond.

Merlin sighed, and reached his hands down to Arthur’s cock, teased it back into interest with one hand while the other cupped and fondled his balls, all the while whispering nonsense into Arthur’s ear about his ridiculous beauty, his stupid nobility. Arthur’s strong rounded arse would brush against Merlin’s cock occasionally as he eased up–up and down–down as if riding his horse at a gentle trot, but Merlin didn’t care much about that. He cared about Arthur, who was feeling pleasure but also struggling with the endless aching hurt of it. Merlin didn’t want this to last any longer than it had to, so he did to Arthur all the relentless things he did to himself when he didn’t have much time alone or was suffering a particular urgency.

Soon – not soon enough, but soon – Arthur’s movements grew ragged, and he moaned, let his head roll back against Merlin’s shoulder.

_‘Merlin –’_ Cenred cried through gritted teeth –

And Merlin took his hand from Arthur’s balls, though he never once faltered with the other on his cock – and he reached below for the loose end of the leather strip, tugged at it. Dragged it free.

Cenred cried out in pain. ‘By the gods! _Make him come!’_

‘My prince,’ Merlin murmured in Arthur’s ear as he renewed and increased his attentions. ‘My beautiful noble prince…’ He bit at Arthur’s earlobe. ‘The finest prince in the land. Every man in Albion desires you, my lord… _Albion_ desires you…’

And Arthur spilled over with a wounded cry – Cenred welded hands to Arthur’s hips, powered up into him with a shout – and Merlin clung on as both men descended into quivering hoarseness.

There was no talk of anyone being cleaned this time. The three of them simply dragged themselves into some kind of comfort on the bed, some kind of alignment, with Arthur in between, his head sharing a pillow with Merlin’s, and Cenred sprawled on the other side of him, ungainly, and powerful despite the fact that he seemed to have drifted into sleep or unconsciousness.

Arthur remained awake, though his breathing calmed, and he lay quietly. He seemed thoughtful rather than dazed. Pensive, perhaps.

Merlin whispered, ‘Arthur.’

‘Mmm?’

‘I’ll go fetch another vial. Before he wakes. That first one has worn off.’

The corner of Arthur’s mouth twisted with a bitter humour. ‘There’s no need.’

‘You don’t have to suffer like this, if you have the choice of –’

‘I’d rather it were this way.’

‘Arthur –’

‘It wasn’t… honourable to be drugged into not minding as much. Neither was it necessary. If my father feared that I wouldn’t have the courage –’ Arthur stopped abruptly.

Merlin’s broken heart crumbled a little further. ‘You _do_ mind,’ he observed, barely voicing the notion.

Arthur didn’t reply.

‘At least let me fetch some salve for you. I should have thought to bring some, but I didn’t think he’d –’

‘No, Merlin. Just… help me through this.’

‘You _want_ me here?’ Merlin asked in disbelief.

‘You have been… unexpectedly useful. Don’t fail me now.’

Merlin let his head fall back down beside Arthur’s, not wanting to let the sudden dampness in his eyes undermine the prince’s resolve. Arthur let himself relax a little closer into Merlin’s embrace. But then, before either of them could say anything further, Cenred stirred and slowly woke again.

The two of them watched silently while the king hauled himself up onto an elbow, reached for the tangled leather strip and righted it, smoothed it out. Then he palmed his own soft dark–blooded cock and examined it coolly, almost as if it wasn’t his at all. The flesh seemed discoloured, and perhaps unnaturally swollen.

Merlin couldn’t help himself. ‘You’ll do yourself an injury using that device.’

Cenred hardly spared him a glance. ‘What do you care, serving boy?’

‘I care more than you do, obviously! About all kinds of things.’

The king turned his head to consider him. ‘And what _should_ I care about, if I care not for my own flesh…?’

‘Merlin,’ Arthur said in a low warning tone.

‘No, prince – let him humour me with an answer.’

‘You should care about where I’m from,’ Merlin declared: ‘a village called Ealdor.’

‘Never heard of it.’

‘Exactly! It’s in _your_ kingdom, and you don’t give a toss.’

_‘Merlin!’_ Arthur cried. ‘This is neither the time nor the place for politics.’

Cenred leant there, considering both of them. He wasn’t exactly interested, but then he could hardly be said to be uninvolved, either. After a moment, he observed, ‘Prince Arthur obviously cares for you. Does that explain your loyalty to him rather than to me?’

Merlin set his jaw obdurately. ‘He’s earned it. You haven’t.’

Arthur twisted around to rest his temple against Merlin’s forehead, and from that intimate position close enough to share Merlin’s breath, he muttered, ‘Shut up. Will you _please_ just… _shut up_.’

For once Merlin obeyed. He turned a little further away, settling on his back – though his arms remained around his prince – and he stared up at the woven canopy for a while, feeling mulish. But then eventually he looked back at his bed companions, and indicated Cenred’s darkened cock with a lift of his chin. ‘You’ll do yourself an injury. I’m just saying.’

‘How decent of you to concern yourself…’ the king purred, low in his throat. He shifted up, his hand reaching for his own cock again, tugging it back into hardness. Obviously intending a third round.

‘Try it without the leather, my lord,’ Merlin suggested

‘I might.’ Cenred gestured. ‘You. Merlin. Shift closer, and sit up against the pillows.’

Arthur pushed himself up to allow Merlin room, and Merlin slowly scrambled across to the middle of the bed, arranged a couple of pillows against the bed head. As he moved, his cock bounced stiffly, hungrily, having been ignored by all three of them thus far.

‘My prince,’ Cenred continued once Merlin was settled. ‘On your front, lying stretched out… between Merlin’s thighs.’

Arthur looked truly unwilling for the first time that evening.

‘I want you to pleasure him with your mouth while I fuck you again. Reward this… loyal subject whom you and I share.’

Arthur glanced towards Merlin, but his gaze fell short, unable to meet Merlin’s. And then he was lying down as ordered, stretching out tall with his golden head bent, poised over Merlin’s genitals, and his arms coming up from under Merlin’s spread thighs to cradle his hips, hands taking firm hold of his waist.

‘Pleasure him…’ the king commanded.

Arthur lowered his head – and Merlin couldn’t see beyond that fine fall of hair, but he could _feel_ , and what he felt was perfect wetness perfect pressure, lips sealing around him and the flat of a tongue shyly pushing down against his cockhead, nudging a bit, and then rasping lower… He whimpered –

And then Arthur groaned as Cenred – straddling Arthur’s thighs, with his knees back, and leaning forward on both outstretched arms – pushed up into him once more. Arthur groaned deeply, and the sound of it vibrated through Merlin, who cried out and forced himself not to buck up into the perfection surrounding him. He wanted this _oh by the gods_ _he wanted this_ – and yet he didn’t want to add to Arthur’s hurts and humiliations.

‘Hold off,’ Cenred rumbled. ‘Hold off, boy.’

‘Can’t –’ stuttered Merlin. ‘Can’t –’

‘I won’t last long,’ the king replied, his voice already betraying his growing excitement as he steadily rolled his hips up and back, up and back. ‘Thanks to your advice. I won’t last long. But you’d better outlast me, little one.’

‘But… Oh god… It’s… _Arthur_ … It’s perfect…’

‘See what I gift you with, village boy? What say you now?’

‘I say – I say that – I belong – I belong – with Arthur – now and – for ever more –’

‘Ungrateful wretch…’ But Cenred laughed, the sound resounding down through him, quaking through Arthur, and singing into Merlin. And Merlin was moaning Arthur’s name, his hands shifting over his shoulders, stroking his hair – Arthur’s hands grasping him, Arthur taking him in, intensifying his efforts, suddenly eager – Cenred shouting in triumph as perhaps he began involving his true self for the first time that night, as Arthur truly welcomed him and –

‘Oh god, Arthur – _Arthur!’_ he tried to warn him, but Arthur only held on tighter, took him deeper – and Merlin was spurting up into his prince’s mouth, Arthur swallowing greedily – and Merlin could see Arthur’s hips moving as he rubbed himself off against the sheets, he could _see_ exactly when Arthur came, never mind that he also heard and felt Arthur’s moans around his softening sensitised cock – and Cenred shouted again in joy, and when he was done he fell forward onto Arthur, and Merlin gathered both men up close together, and held them, he just _held_ them.

♦

In the first cool of dawn, Merlin helped Cenred dress again. It was the first time in long long hours that Merlin hadn’t been touching Arthur, and it was ridiculous how much he missed that already.

Once the king had spoken a rough yet proper and grateful farewell to Arthur, Cenred ran a hand over Merlin’s hair and added, ‘I trust you’ll send him back to my kingdom where he belongs once you’re done with him, my prince.’

‘Perhaps,’ said Arthur, ‘I will never be done with him.’

Cenred grinned. ‘Pity.’ He cupped Merlin’s nape for a moment, rubbed at him with his gloved hand – then gave him a little push in Arthur’s direction. ‘And so, village boy, I charge you to do what you are already doing: take good care of the prince.’

Merlin was grinning, too, and he was already heading back to where Arthur waited in the bed. Yet he sighed. ‘If I must…’

‘You must,’ came the joint royal command.

♦


End file.
